Murderous Heart

by Lynne Waite Chapman

  She shrugged. “Okay. I just wanted to see it. You and Clair got to.”

  “It’s a normal house. Nothing to see.”

  “Humph.”

  Anita pointed her chin to the house on the right, then to the house on the left. “Lauren Halloren, super crime fighter, which neighbor do we interview first?”

  I scowled at Anita. “Stop that. I’m not a crime fighter.”

  She shrugged. “Okay. But you’re the one with experience. Two cases solved in the year and a half since you’ve been back in Evelynton.”

  “Once again, I didn’t solve anything. Almost got killed is what I did. If Wallace hadn’t been there the first time, Patsy would have gotten away and we never would have known who killed the insurance man. And if Deloris’s mobility scooter hadn’t stalled, they would have found my body in the alley beside the pharmacy. If Jack hadn’t intervened, I’d be in jail. My experience is filled with close-calls.”

  “Sure, sure. I’ve heard your excuses, but the whole town knows you brought down two theft rings and two murderers.”

  “They do not.” I leveled my eyes at my friend. “A few misguided souls choose to believe I did it.”

  “Uh-huh.” She swung to the right and then to the left. “So which house do we go to first?”

  I pointed to the right. “This way.” The house was almost identical to the house with the crime scene tape. I expected it to be the same layout. The garage was on the right side, with what seemed to be living room windows on the opposite end of the home. The only difference I could detect was blue siding instead of white.

  Anita hurried to reach the door ahead of me, and hissed over her shoulder. “Let me do the talking this time.”

  “Go ahead. You’re the one people love to talk to.” She’d been able to discover critical information in our last escapade.

  She pressed the doorbell, and within a few minutes the door opened revealing a woman of about our age. She wore loose fitting jeans and long sleeved t-shirt. “What can I do for you?” She cocked her head and looked closely at Anita. “Don’t I know you? You go to the same church I do, don’t you?”

  “That’s right, though we’ve not actually been introduced. This is a happy coincidence.” Anita grabbed the woman’s hand and introduced us.

  The woman pulled her hand from my friend’s grip. “Tonya Becker. Nice to meet you.”

  “I can’t believe we haven’t met before this. I try to get to know everyone at church.”

  Tonya flapped a hand. “Oh, my husband and I leave right after the service. Don’t stay around for coffee time. We have too much to do on Sundays. You know, taking care of the yard and the house.”

  “I can understand that. It’s never-ending.”

  “My husband works well over forty hours a week at Justice Insurance Company. I’m a cook at the school cafeteria. Four hours a day, but I have my housework to do.”

  Anita leaned on the door frame and looked genuinely interested. “You get to work with the kids. I bet that’s fun. I’ve wondered, do you cook the meals at the school, or are they shipped in?”

  “We cook ‘em. One of the few cafeterias that still do.”

  Why had I agreed to let Anita talk? We’d be there all day. I smiled at Tonya and bumped my elbow into Anita’s ribs—gently.

  My talkative friend glanced at me. “Silly me, I almost forgot why we stopped by. And I don’t want to take up too much of your time. Would you mind if we stepped in for a minute? We want to ask you about your neighbor.” She tipped her head to the left, in the direction of the dead woman’s house.”

  Tonya raised her eyebrows. “Oh. Of course, come in. That was a surprise wasn’t it? Never thought anything like that would happen in Evelynton, let alone in this neighborhood.”

  She led the way to a comfortable and well-used living room.

  Anita and I took seats side by side on the brown corduroy sofa. T0nya sat in a blue plush chair across from us. I guessed it was her usual spot, since it was surrounded by fashion magazines, a paperback, an empty coffee cup, and tissues.

  Tonya’s eyes were bright as she leaned forward. “I have to tell you it was a shock when the police showed up over there. Can’t believe that poor woman died right next door. And her body had been laying there for who knows how long.”

  Anita nodded. “Incredible. Did you know her well?”

  “No, didn’t know her at all. I’d met her of course, since she was right next door. But that’s as far as it went. Can’t even remember what she said her name was.” Tonya scrunched her forehead. “Valerie? Victoria? Something like that. Don’t remember the last name, either. It sounded foreign. Anyway, I hardly ever saw her out. My husband and I talked about that. Thought she must travel a lot. We’d see the curtains open and shut, lights on at night. You know, normal stuff for a week or so. Then no movement at the windows and no lights, so we figured she was gone on a trip. There was never much activity around the house.”

  “No kidding? Didn’t anyone check on her house during the times she was away?”

  Tonya shook her head. “Not that I saw. Well, she did have a lawn guy who showed up every week or so to mow the lawn. He took care of the leaves in the fall. He was there pretty regularly, so I we figured everything was okay. Wish we could afford a lawn guy. Yard work is about all we get done on weekends.”

  Anita smiled. “Oh girl, wouldn’t that be heaven? I don’t mind mowing in the spring but by mid-summer I’ve had enough.”

  “You and me both.” The two women laughed.

  Tonya glanced out the window for a moment. “Then the lawn guy must have quit about two months ago. The grass was a foot high when we realized something was up. It looked awful. My husband, Lance, started mowing it when he did ours. As if he had time.”

  Anita shook her head. “That’s all he needed. More yard to mow.”

  Tonya leaned forward and nodded. “And snow to shovel this winter. It isn’t good to have a house next door that appears vacant.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  Tonya sighed and continued. “Well after a while Lance wised up and talked to Frank, the neighbor on the other side. He’s a good guy and they started taking turns mowing. I was waiting for that woman to get back, to let her know her hired man wasn’t doing his job.” She gazed through the window for a moment before returning her attention to us. “I guess she won’t be coming home.”

  I squirmed in my seat, my self-control getting away from me. So far, I’d let Anita do all the talking. Finally, I couldn’t stay quiet. “Did you notice anything out of the ordinary in the last few months? I mean besides the lawn.”

  “No. Except her outside light burned out. It was one of those dusk to dawn lights, but it doesn’t work anymore. Lance and I’ve been talking about taking it on ourselves to replace the bulb. Wouldn’t cost much and it would be safer in the neighborhood if all the homes had lights at night. I guess, when they sell the house, that will be fixed.”

  “You said there wasn’t much activity at the house. Did she have visitors?”

  “No, I never saw anyone. I don’t think she had company the entire time she lived here. But it’s not like I watched out the window all the time. I have work to do in my own home.”

  “Did you think it was strange she’d been gone so long this time? Did you ever report it to the police?”

  Tonya shook her head. “No, Lance said we shouldn’t call the police. What if she returned and found out we’d turned her in? I didn’t appreciate her letting the lawn go, but Lance said it was her business what she did.”

  There were probably more questions I should have asked but I couldn’t think of them. For a close neighbor, Tonya knew little about the dead woman. “Thank you for talking to us. We couldn’t believe something like this would happen in our town, and were curious.”

  Anita regained control of the interview. “If you think of anything, or see anything going on over there, would you call me?” Anita pulled a business card from her purse. “Her
e’s my number.”

  We stood and Anita grabbed Tonya’s hand again. “I’m so glad I met you and I’ll look for you at church. Maybe I can convince you and Lance to stay for coffee after the service and meet a few people.”

  Tonya gave a tight lipped smile and nodded.

  As soon as the door closed I shot a gaze at Anita. “You have business cards? Why? I don’t even have one and I’m self-employed.”

  “I had them printed. They say Anita Corbin, Housewife. Friend in Time of Need. Call anytime.” My friend giggled. “We should have Danger Girls Detective Agency cards printed. We can get them on the Internet.”

  “No. Don’t even think about it.” I turned and led the way down the sidewalk, past the deceased woman’s house.

  Anita put her hand out. “Give me your notebook. We should record the information Tonya gave us.”

  I pulled the purse-sized notepad from my handbag and handed it to Anita. She planted her feet and scribbled notes while I studied at the foreclosed house. The house the mortgage company considered deserted, but its owner hadn’t left. She’d lain entombed, waiting to be discovered.

  Chapter Seven

  A nita tucked my notebook into her handbag. “Isn’t it odd Tonya didn’t remember her neighbor’s name? I’d want to know who lived next door, wouldn’t you?”

  “You get along with everybody. I guess it’s different for someone who’s lived in the same town their whole life. Until last year I never saw a need to meet the neighbors.” In the city and especially in condos, it seemed prudent to avoid getting involved. Or maybe that was just me.

  I’d discovered, since my return, there might have been support when my husband had been killed. Maybe if I’d known my neighbors or belonged to a church, someone would have made it a point to check on me. There were no visits. No meals delivered. My few acquaintances quit coming around when I was not communicative. One of the things that struck me about this little town was that people cared and found ways to help anyone who had trouble. At least I thought that until we found the mummy in the car.

  I focused my attention on the house to the left of the crime scene—if it was a crime scene.

  Anita pushed ahead of me again and punched the doorbell. I stood close behind, on tiptoes, peering over her shoulder. The door opened and we were greeted by a tiny woman with a familiar face. Her eyes met mine.

  “Hello there. Halloren, isn’t it?”

  I crowded around Anita and stuck out my hand. “This is a surprise. I didn’t know you lived here.”

  Irma, the file clerk at the police station, gave my hand a vigorous shake. She flashed a vibrant smile, for a woman of her age—whatever age that was. I remembered, from our last meeting, I’d been continually adjusting my estimate of her chronological age. At different times during the conversation I’d guessed her anywhere between forty and seventy. I made a mental note to learn more about Irma.

  After introducing Anita, I got cut out of the conversation. She’d nudged me out of the way and gushed over Irma like a long-lost cousin.

  “Wait a minute. We met briefly at Ava’s Java. Clair Lane and I were having coffee and you stopped by our table. I think you’d sprained your ankle. How are you doing with it?”

  “Went to school with Clair? I remember you. My ankle is much better. Thanks for asking. Had to have it wrapped for a while.”

  It was going to kill me if Anita and Irma got into a long conversation. I jumped in. “Irma works at the police department. She does the filing, I think. Is that right?”

  “That’s correct. Been serving the station, and the citizens of Evelynton, for ten years. What brings you out on this lovely day?”

  I put on my sad face. “We were talking about what happened to the poor woman next door. The discovery brought up so many questions. Anita and I wondered what her neighbors could tell us.”

  Irma leaned out of the doorway and scanned the street in both directions. “Come inside.”

  I knew the police department employee wasn’t technically allowed to share information about official business. But from our previous meeting, I remembered Irma was proud of her position. Being in-the-know about crime in Evelynton, came with a certain status.

  We followed Irma down a hall to her bright white kitchen. Sunshine flowed through windows bordered by yellow curtains. We sat at a table covered with a cheerful red and white checkered cloth. The diminutive file clerk pulled her chair close and leaned in. “I’m treading on dangerous territory by talking to you.”

  “I understand. And honestly, we had no idea you lived here. I would never want to take advantage of your friendship to gain confidential information. But since we’re here….”

  Irma nodded. “Good. And you should be aware I won’t divulge any facts that might affect the integrity of the investigation. Make sure you don’t spread any rumors that might get back to Chief Stoddard. If he thinks I spoke out of line, it could mean my job.”

  I made a show of shaking my head. “Never. And I can vouch for Anita. She is completely reliable to keep sensitive information to herself.”

  At least I hoped so.

  Anita regained her position as interviewer. “Did you know the woman who lived next door?”

  “Nope. Saw her outside once in a while. Oh, I waved but never spoke to her. She didn’t behave like she wanted to be neighborly, and I had things to do. Everybody around here thought she must have traveled a lot. Maybe it was part of her job. I’m sure Tonya told you that. Saw you over at her door.”

  “Yes she did. Wasn’t anyone in the neighborhood acquainted with the deceased?”

  “I doubt it. Never saw her talking to anybody around here. She was just somebody who occupied the house. Course, I know more about her now.” Irma caught my eye and raised a brow.

  I took the hint. “What have the police discovered?”

  “Chief Stoddard wouldn’t even tell me her name. Me, her neighbor. He was afraid it would get into the paper. As long as I’ve worked there, you’d think I’d deserve more consideration.”

  Anita and I nodded our agreement. “Ten years.”

  Irma put her arms on the table and clasped her hands. “But since you asked, I’ll let you in on the little information I’ve gleaned from talk around the station. We’re not releasing this to the public, so keep it to yourselves.”

  Anita made a motion as if zipping her lips.

  “So what I do know is the woman lived alone. Single. Thirty-eight years old. They figure she was self-employed, or she had a lot of money. They haven’t found any pay stubs or work record, but her bank statements indicate she had upwards of fifty thousand dollars in the bank at one time.”

  Anita blurted. “That’s a lot of money. You said ‘at one time’ so how much is in there, now?”

  “Zilch. Nada. The money ran out three months ago.”

  “No kidding? What happened to it?”

  “I suppose living happened. She had all her bills paid electronically through the bank and eventually that used up all the money.”

  My attention drifted while I gazed through Irma’s kitchen window. How much of her neighbor’s house could she see from there?

  When I returned my attention to the table, both women were staring at me. “What?”

  Irma sighed and tipped her head to the side. “Weren’t you listening?”

  It seemed to stretch Irma’s patience, but she brought me up to speed. “I said I wouldn’t trust the bankers with paying my bills. I’d rather write the checks myself.”

  She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Then I asked Anita what she thought about it. She lets her husband take care of the bills. Now we’re waiting for your opinion.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” I shook my head to clear it. “I hadn’t thought about it. There’s never been a reliable balance in my bank account, so I wouldn’t want to worry the bankers with it.”

  Irma squinted at me and returned her attention to Anita. “Anyway, the fifty-thousand kept the mortgage paid, and the lights
on until the account ran dry. We, here in the neighborhood, didn’t know any of this of course. Just noticed one day the lawn hadn’t been mowed and pretty soon the porch light wasn’t on. Course Tonya and I figured the bulb burnt out. Talked about fixing it ‘cause we like lights on at night. We still thought the woman would be back to take care of it. My husband, Frank, and Tonya’s Lance, took turns mowing the lawn. Believe me, they were going to pounce on the situation as soon as she got back home. Didn’t take them more than an extra half hour to do her yard, but you should’ve heard them complain.”

  Anita leaned back and put her hand to her cheek. “That’s amazing. All her bills were getting paid, and she could have been dead for—how long ago do the police think she died?”

  “Melvin didn’t say. I know the coroner made a guess at six months but wouldn’t pinpoint T.O.D.”

  Irma glanced at Anita. “That’s official talk for time of death.”

  “Is it?” Anita pulled out my notebook to jot that information down, then glanced up at Irma. “Do they know how she died?”

  “Last I heard no one had a clue. The state guys will have to work on it and maybe figure it out in a few months. Chief Stoddard said we may never know.”

  Irma relaxed her arms, seemingly forgiving my lapse in attention. “He mentioned she could have killed herself. Maybe sat in the car while it was running. The garage would have filled up with carbon monoxide pretty quick.”

  I flashed back to the conversation with Stacy and almost corrected Irma.

  She continued. “But they discovered there was still gas in the tank and the ignition wasn’t on. Not even a key in the vehicle. So that theory went out the window.”

  Irma tapped herself on the head. “Course, I thought the flower in her hand lent itself to the suicide theory.”

  Anita’s attention was riveted on Irma. “A flower?”

  Irma nodded. “Yep. Hands clasped in front of her, like this.” She showed us with her own hands. “Holding a dried up flower. Weird isn’t it?”

  I almost blurted out I’d already heard that tidbit, but again thought before I spoke. If Irma knew Stacy had been talking to me, she might become wary of sharing more information.